


The "Butterfly" Effect

by StainedStarlight



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Beware, Eventual Smut, M/M, Slow Build, curse words
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-04-04 16:18:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4144359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StainedStarlight/pseuds/StainedStarlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The arrival of three foreigners in Ikebukuro starts a chain of seemingly accidental mishaps and not-so-innocent pranks that eventually lead to big changes for two of the city's most notorious enemies. And it turns out Izaya didn't even see it coming. </p><p>Also, everyone would be relieved if public property stopped being damaged so often.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Arrivals

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo, this is my first fanfiction, not my first time writing though. It's un-beta-ed for now, and if anyone would be willing to take up the job, please let me know.

It has been said that when a butterfly flaps its wings, halfway around the world a hurricane starts. Like any old expression, the words can be interpreted in many different ways, but the most common of these is the idea that small events lead to big changes. One reaction, ricocheting off people and places, cumulating in a great event for and entirely different set of people.

Now; If a single butterfly could indeed cause such damage, its wings stir up such a storm, just imagine what three could do.

* * *

On any given day in Ikebukuro, as a rule, there were at least four major things going on. This stood true on an individual basis, and a district-wide one as well.

Anyone who hadn’t been living under a rock could tell you that the first major event in Ikebukuro today was the making of yet another one of Yuuhei Hanejima’s latest films. The usual crowds would gather, and various individuals would either watch from afar, or try to get close, resulting in the discovery of very firm security.

The second and fourth major occurrences that day took place, respectively, in a small restaurant and a dingy back-alley. Lots of people ended up hearing about the second event the next week, and nobody but those directly involved would ever find out about the fourth.

The third major event, however, would go unnoticed for what it was for about a month and a half by most of the bustling district’s population. It was an arrival. By air, if you wanted to be specific.

Orihara Izaya could not be considered part of the normal population. He notices the event in its second day of existence, the infamous information broker never being one to miss exiting details that the less observant might overlook. Of course, even he wasn’t omnipotent, and he quite fails to realize the full scope of what’s about to take place.

That day, the first two of his personal major events had occurred before he even left the apartment that morning, (1. one of Namie’s heals had broken, sending her crashing down the stairs and resulting in a neck-brace, that, among other things, left her unable to talk without extreme pain for about a month, and 2. he’d just landed himself a fairly large client, from some undisclosed foreign location.) The cunning brunette was quite looking forward to what the day would bring him.

Therefore, he walked towards Ikebukuro with a visible spring in his step, observing the people around him with the usual amount of unsettling focus.

Every day, he liked to build up a tally of the common behaviors of his lovely humans, and so far he’d seen: 4 crying schoolgirls (and two schoolboys), 9 angry businessmen, 7 loud unsupervised children, and 2 unfortunate salary men who were late for work.

All of these he’d seen in one morning, within just a few blocks of each other, and they were all considered rather boring by the dark-hair informant. These were thoroughly everyday occurrences. Just as he was passing a nondescript convenience store that marked his passage into Ikebukuro proper, he saw his first interesting event, and became the third person who wasn’t directly involved in its causation to notice the important arrival.

A few blocks away, two girls were sitting on the top of a fence, chatting animatedly.

Now, this in itself was a fairly unremarkable thing to see. But these girls caught Izaya’s attention for a few reasons; firstly, they were very clearly foreign, and, secondly, they were obviously not tourists.

They could’ve easily been American, he though, or maybe French, but then, it was hard to tell. One of them was wearing a dark-green turtleneck, shorts, and striped black and white tights, and the other was dressed in a white crop-top with the English phrase “Led Zeppelin” emblazoned across it in black lettering, a black leather jacket, and ripped-up punk-style jeans. They were both wearing white roller-skates that laced up to the knee.

By and large, Izaya was uninterested in foreigners. They weren’t often here to stay, and were more interested in sight-seeing than interacting with the city in any meaningful way. These two were different. They neither stared up at the Tokyo sights or around at the culture like any good tourist ought to do, nor seemed in a great hurry to be anywhere. Both looked to be just old enough to be out of high school.

As the informant walked closer, he was mildly surprised to hear that both girls were speaking flawless Japanese, right down to the local accent. It was right about then that he noticed the sign sitting next to the two at the bottom of the wall, “Messages Delivered” it read, and below it, in smaller kanji, “fast, confidential, trustworthy.” So they were here to stay; at least for a small amount of time.

Curious, very odd! He thought in delight, observing them from across the street. A few seconds later, as Izaya lounged against a nearby pole, someone familiar showed up and began speaking to the two interesting girls.

Simon seemed to be making his usual rounds, and he stopped to talk to the girls lounging on the wall as if he knew them. After greeting them both in Russian, the three started a friendly chat. A few minutes passed, and the girl in the leather jacket fished out a shiny looking electric cigarette and puffed at it unconcernedly, the girl in the turtleneck beginning a rapid conversation with Simon in Russian about the latest “sushi” that had been invented down at his restaurant. Again, her vernacular was perfect down to the accent. The other girl chipped in to the conversation every once in a while, speaking just as well as her friend.

Very, very interesting, Izaya thought.

Eventually, though, Simon had to be on his way, and the two girls waved and said goodbye. As he receded into the distance, trailing Russia Sushi pamphlets, the two went back to their conversation, this time in English. They had American accents.

Izaya watched them for a while, starting to grow a bit bored, as they were simply talking about the weather, then the girl in the turtleneck pulled her phone out of her pocket, glanced at the screen, and departed in a graceful blur. He watched her go, dodging through the crowded street effortlessly on her red-wheeled skates. The other girl called a goodbye to her, calling her either “Ana-chan” or possibly “Hana-chan”, and went back to puffing her e-cig.

The perfect opportunity.

Smirking to himself, the devious brunette crossed the street until he was standing right below the remaining girl. She gazed down at him coldly, blowing smoke rings, and Izaya felt a flash of annoyance at having someone look down on him from above. After a few seconds of silence, the girl spoke.

“You want something? Huh?” Her voice was just as cold and sharp as her brilliantly green eyes, and she’d asked in Japanese. Izaya put on his most charming smile, reaching his hand up for a handshake.

“Why, no need to be hostile, messenger-san, just looking to introduce myself. I am Orihara, the information broker! I have the pleasure of meeting…?” The girl looked down at his hand, and declined his handshake. Undeterred, Izaya offered a little bow instead, eyeing the tattoo across her chest. In English, it read, “At every occasion I’ll be ready for the funeral” In scrawling black script.

“Kaji Shinzobi, Message Courier.” She said, after a moment’s pause, blowing a large cloud of vapor from her bright crimson lips, and moving her hair deftly behind her ears.

Izaya took the opportunity to give her a close-up examination. She had matching silver ear-cuffs that spanned the edges of her ears in the shape of silver angel wings. The silver looked pretty genuine to Izaya. A bright red streak, the same shade as her lips, ran its way from her scalp to the end of her hair amid her light brown locks on the left side of her head. Interestingly, she looked athletic, but not the sports kind of athletic. A very specific kind of athletic that Izaya himself was intimately familiar with; the kind of well-toned muscle built by someone who was used to moving very fast through narrow city streets.

He smirked inwardly, his interest almost doubled, though his face still outwardly displaying his saccharine smile. Maybe he’d tease her a bit, she seemed like the kind of person who would get angry quickly.

“Ah, ah! What an interesting name! Especially for someone who’s not Japanese! And new in Ikebukuro, too! And what an interesting job, ne? Oh yes!” He spun delicately, watching the girl’s reaction out of the corner of his eye.

She just snorted, smiling humorlessly down at him. The corner of her eye twitched slightly.

“You need a message delivered? You’ve been watching us from across the street like a stalker.” She leaned down, deliberately blowing a passion fruit-scented cloud of vapor down in to the informant’s face.

When Izaya shook his head, huffing at the disgustingly sweet vapor, she laid back on the wall and closed her eyes. Izaya noted a small black-and white butterfly tattoo on her wrist as she did so.

“Then kindly get lost, Orihara the informant.” She intoned flatly.

He sat there for a few more minutes, remarking casually once more about her clearly foreign origins, and she sat there silently, giving no indication that she’d heard, except to make a very truthful sounding threat.

“If you continue annoying me, I’ll burn your tongue right out of your mouth”, She said.

After two more unsuccessful attempts to start a conversation, and two more increasingly graphic threats, he gave up and stared up at her taciturn form with a mixture of deep interest and slight smugness. No one would ever be as fun to infuriate as his beloved Shizu-chan, but this girl was proving to be more and more amusing as the minutes passed.

To Izaya’s disappointment, his playtime didn’t last much longer. About a minute later she, too, pulled out a phone, (bright red) and hopped off the wall. Then, grabbing the sign under her arm, she smirked at Izaya over her shoulder, and skated away.

“I’m sure I’ll see you around, Orihara Izaya.” She called back. Her wheels a pink blur.

Izaya watched her go feeling mildly irritated. And interested, still very interested. After all, he hadn’t told the girl his first name. He’d have to look in to that later, he told himself. He’d make an effort to find out about more about this “Kaji Shinzobi” and her friend “Hana-chan”, but, in the meantime, he had a whole day ahead of him, and why not spread a little mayhem?

Turning gracefully on his heel, he headed off towards the center of Ikebukuro where he knew his favorite monster, Shizuo Heiwajima, would be working. All the while with a sadistic spring in his step.


	2. Secret Admirer!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we get some insight into Shizuo's feels, and also meet Hana!

Heiwajima Shizuo was tired. It’d been a long day, and somewhere in the midst of beating up the few people stupid enough not to pay their debt, he’d run into Izaya. It seemed as though that had been happening more often lately, which was highly problematic for Shizuo, as his destruction of public property skyrocketed whenever the flea showed his infuriatingly handsome face.

After a district-wide chase, the insect had managed to shake him as usual, and now the blond was thoroughly tired and more than a little hungry as he walked home sporting a fresh cut across one of his forearms.

He really did hate that flea.

Growling angrily under his breath, Ikebukuro’s strongest continued his walk distractedly. He was so out of it he didn’t realize he’d walked right into someone, or something until he was looking down at the surprised face of a young woman. He blinked, taking a step back. Ordinarily, he would’ve gotten angry immediately, but he was quite tired, and besides, he had the sneaking suspicion he knew this girl form somewhere.

She was foreign, definitely, but oddly familiar… Then he had it. She was one of those messenger girls that’d been skating around the city for about two months now. He’d seen them occasionally, and had once been tempted to use them to try and send a message to Kasuka since his phone had gotten smashed during a chase, but he’d never bothered and realized he didn’t even know any of the girl’s names.

This one had natural red hair drawn back in a messy ponytail, wide brown eyes, a green turtleneck and black and white tights. Her red-wheeled skates laced up to her knees. She stared up at him with her huge eyes for a few seconds before jumping acrobatically to her feet and offering him a huge, toothy smile.

“Hey, wow, super sorry about that! Here, have this.” She held out a mostly-full box of strawberry pocky without preamble, offering the whole thing to a confused Shizuo.

Well, he was pretty hungry. Might as well. Hesitantly, he took the box of sweet snacks and began munching on them, feeling like a fish out of water. The girl grinned and sat down on a nearby bench, fishing two cartons of chocolate milk out of her canvas satchel. Opening one of them with an overenthusiastic flourish, she threw the other to the blond and looked up at him expectantly.

“You can sit down y’know, my name’s Sukoshibara Aiohana, nice to meet you!” She pulled another box of pocky out of her bag and chugged a bit of her milk.

It was a suspiciously Japanese name for someone who definitely wasn’t Japanese, Shizuo though. Still, it wasn’t often that he talked to strangers, people usually avoided him. Even if they didn’t, his temper usually flared up and caused them to leave with alacrity. This girl, however, had immediately handed him a carton of milk and seemed to want to chat him up. And, most confusing of all, he found he kind of liked her. Which was unfortunate. Shizuo sat down on the bench as well, and sighed heavily. If she was being this nice, it probably meant she didn’t know who he was. He doubted she’d still be this friendly when he told her his name; people tended to shy away from someone who routinely destroyed half the city. Heck, he probably would too, he couldn’t blame anyone for not wanting to be around him.

“Yeah, the name’s Heiwajima Shizuo. Thanks for the milk, Sukoshibara, was it? I gotta go.” He made to get up, but to his surprise, found a delicate hand on the cuff of his white sleeve.

“Just call me Hana! Or Hana-chan if you want, all my friends call me Hana-chan. Mind if I walk with you?” Her voice was just as cheerful as before. Bemused, Shizuo shook his head. 

He resumed walking towards his apartment, his companion easily keeping pace on her skates. She was actually about as tall as he was in them, and he noticed a pair of black angel-wing ear cuffs that looked rather costly on her ears.

“So, Heiwajima-san, let me know if I annoy you, kay? Umi and Bibi are always saying I talk too much, and it makes me sad when I annoy people.” She did a twirl around a nearby pole, stuffing several pocky into her mouth at once.

The volatile blond continued walking, finding he was actually beginning to cheer up in his strange companion’s company. If she’d been here for even a week, he realized, someone would have told her about him and all the damage he caused, or she would’ve seen for herself. So, she definitely knew who he was and what he was capable of. Hana didn’t seem to care at all, skating along and talking to him like the two of them were old friends. There wasn’t even a trace of fear in her voice. Shizuo could probably count the number of people who talked to him like that on one hand.

It was nice, he though. Too good to be true, actually. His face fell. Maybe she wanted something from him. Maybe that was the real reason why she was acting so friendly.

“Hey, Hana-chan, what d’you want, eh? What’re you talking to a guy like me for?” He asked gruffly, finishing the last of the delicious chocolate milk, and crushing the carton in his hands before hocking it into the nearest trashcan.

“Eh? What d’you mean?” She cocked her head “You’re a nice guy, so I decided to talk to you, s’all.”

“Wanna be friends, Heiwajima-san?” She turned, smiling genuinely at him.

He paused a moment, thinking he must’ve heard her wrong.

“You know what I can do, right? I could break you like a twig.” He growled.

Hana nodded at him enthusiastically, as if he’d just said something nice instead of something highly threatening.

“Oh, yes! I’ve seen you throw vending machines, and lamp-posts, and cars and all sorts of things around. Mostly at Iza-chan, of course! I’m not scared of you, Heiwajima-san!”

There was not a trace of dishonesty on her face, and she offered her hand to shake. Shizuo stared at the offered appendage like it was an alien for a few seconds before shaking it. He really did like her, not to mention, anyone who called the infamous Orihara Izaya “Iza-chan” really did have no fear.

“…. Sure. Yeah, why not. And just… Shizuo.” She beamed and positively squealed.

Smiling slightly, Shizuo continued his walk home, again with Hana beside him. She seemed to be incapable of being quiet, and talked about her friends Umi and Bibi or sang for about five blocks nonstop. Her prattle reminded him of the flea, and he was oddly fine with that. Of course, Izaya would never speak to him in such a friendly way, and he’d been learning to live with that since the first moment he’d met the other man. He’d been in love with the other ever since he’d laid eyes on him, although it had taken him several years to come to terms with this fact. In some ways, Shizuo wished he could’ve kept thinking he hated the crafty informant, because that would’ve been much easier to deal with.

The sound of a loud ringtone interrupted Shizuo’s thoughts abruptly. He turned to see Hana answering her phone. She spoke for a few minutes to the person on the other end of the line about what the tall blond assumed was a job, then slid her phone back into her pocket and turned to Shizuo with a slightly more serious look on her face.

“Whelp, I have to go, it was great talking to you Shizuo! I hope I see you around!” Then, she started and clapped her hand dramatically to her forehead. 

“Oh, Shizuo! I almost forgot! I have a message to deliver to you.” Slipping her hand inside her satchel, she pulled out a small folder and fished inside it.

After a few seconds, she found what she was looking for and handed it to the blond, before skating away and calling out a friendly goodbye.

Shizuo turned the note over in his hands.

~You have a secret admirer!~ It said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, comments/critiques/anything of the sort is welcome! Also, would anyone be interested in seeing what the characters look like??


	3. Bathrobes and Jealousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, third chapter! Also, we meet the third Butterfly-Girl! We also get to see some more of Izaya being a little shit. Yay!

The next morning greeted Shizuo bright and early with a polite knocking on the door, when he looked at the clock, he saw that it was 7:30. Much too early. The tall blond leapt out of bed with a growl and proceeded to stomp his way angrily to his front door. It was only as he was wrenching it open that he realized he was still in his boxers.

The person on the other end of the door gazed at him calmly, looking completely unfazed at the messy-haired, red-faced and still angry visage of Heiwajima Shizuo.

The girl held out two slips of paper with exceedingly neat handwriting scrawled across them and looked up at the now more flustered than upset man in front of her with eyes like a calm sky.

“I have two messages for Heiwajima Shizuo-sama. They were sent by Heiwajima Kasuka-sama.” At the mention of his brother, Shizuo relaxed a little, looking down he saw a pair of white-wheeled skates on her feet. So she was one of Hana’s friends.

Taking the slips of paper self-consciously, Shizuo also found he had also been handed a grey bathrobe that the girl had apparently produced from her bag.

“Eh, so, you’re one of Hana-chan’s friends?” He asked, shrugging on the garment with mixed feelings; I mean, who the heck just carried around a bathrobe?

The girl simply nodded, smiling slightly at the mention of her friend.

“I am. You may keep the robe, Heiwajima-sama.”

“Well, hum, say hello to Hana-chan for me?” He made to close the door, but the girl held up her hand in an arresting motion.

“I am very sorry, Heiwajima-sama, I must wait for you to write a reply.”

Irritated, the tall blond sighed and looked down to read the two messages. The script was unmistakably written in Kasuka’s steady hand.

 

~Brother, I’m sending this message via Shizukana-san

Because you haven’t answered your phone this week.

I hope my words find you in good health.~

~Heiwajima Kasuka~

 

Feeling guilty, Shizuo glanced at the second note.

 

~Also, Shizuo,

Feel free to send a reply with Shizukana-san,

I have already paid.

If at all possible, please try to get along

With Shizukana-san and her friends;

They may be able to help you achieve

Your intended relationship with

Izaya-kun.

~Heiwajima Kasuka~

 

 

          Gasping, Shizuo hid the note quickly behind his back, snapping his eyes up to Shizukana’s face in fear.

          “Did you-Tell me you- Did you read this note?!?” He was breathing fast, and he could feel the doorframe start to groan and splinter under his palm. His heart-rate plunged in relief as he saw her shake her head decisively.

          “No. We do not read our client’s messages.” She took out her phone and tapped a quick text, not even looking at the screen.

          “Would you like to send a return message?”

Still not quite calm, Shizuo just nodded his reply, making to turn inside and find a pen and paper. His progress was halted by the girl holding out both a pen and a crisp sheet of paper; offering them with a professional nod of her head.

          Taking the paper, the blond scrawled out a quick note to Kasuka.

 

~Dear Kasuka,

Everything’s fine, it’s been fine, I broke my phone

Chasing Izaya through a biker gang, sorry

I didn’t tell you.~

~Shizuo~

 

          For now, he decided to save asking Kasuka just what he meant by saying Hana and her friends could “help” him get closer to Izaya until he could actually see him. There was always the possibility that the flea would somehow see the note. Okay, well, probably not, but Shizuo couldn’t help but be paranoid. That darn flea seemed to find out about _everything_ and since Shizuo had so far miraculously been able to keep his little secret to himself and Kasuka (and possibly Shinra, the annoying doctor kept dropping hints that he’d figured it out) he wasn’t about to tempt fate.

          He shoved the paper somewhat more roughly than he meant to into Shizukana’s hand, but she just bowed calmly, then whisked away on her skates with a flick of her golden hair. As he watched her vault over the rail of the stairs instead of walking, he realized that he now needed to decide what to do with the rest of his day, since it happened to be his day off. A glance at the clock confirmed that it was only 7:45. Maybe he should just go back to bed?

          A snide and very loud voice he knew all too well chased the notion from his head a second later.

          “Ne, Shizu-chan, sleeping with girls now are you? How amusing, I thought you were bound to break anyone unfortunate enough to get into bed with you with that monstrous strength of yours.” It was Izaya, of course it was Izaya. The informant was shouting from the other side of the street as he pranced atop a high concrete wall.

          Feeling a fresh flash of fright at the thought of the other man seeing Kasuka’s note, Shizuo felt his eyes grow wide, before coming to his senses. If Izaya had seen the note then he’d be teasing Shizuo about his unrequited feelings instead of insinuating that he was sleeping with some girl he’d just met.

          “The hell are you doing?! And I wasn’t sleeping with her! She’s one of those note-carrying girls!” He spat back at his not-quite enemy.

          “Please, Shizu-chan, she was returning your bathrobe! And you opened the door practically nude.” Izaya replied in a singsong voice; his signature smirk pasted across his face.

          “Shut up, louse! Get lost!” His shout proved to be ineffective, as he couldn’t help blushing when he remembered how close he had come to sleeping _without_ boxers on last night. Across the street, he saw Izaya laugh smugly.

Briefly, Shizuo considered hopping the rail like Shizukana had and scaring the daylights out of the annoying flea, but discarded the idea on the principle that he was, still, only wearing a grey bathrobe. The insect would only laugh and run away like he usually did. Growling, he settled on slamming the door and yelling a parting shot before Izaya could respond.

          “Get out of here before I’m dressed or I’ll snap your lousy neck, flea!”

 

*     *     *

 

Izaya had actually been walking home, and since his route always took him right past his enemy’s apartment (not intentionally, you understand, it was just the most convenient way) he’d seen the girl knocking on Shizu-chan’s door and decided he was curious. According to all accounts, the brute had never had a girlfriend, bed-partner, or even female friend; unless you counted Celty, which Izaya didn’t.

She was a pretty girl, too. European, with sleek hair the color of dark gold. Her face was elegant and serene as a millpond, and her frame was delicate. What was more, she had expensive clothes; very stylish and high quality, the kind of thing an actress would wear on a “casual” day out. The informant ground his teeth.

Now, jealousy wasn’t an emotion the devious information broker knew he was capable of, so when he felt the slight twinge of his emotions, he brushed it off. He wasn’t jealous, he didn’t get jealous, even if the monster answered the door in his boxers and gave her a soft kind of look, and took his bathrobe back from her. If he was jealous, he was jealous of _Shizu-chan_ because he was simply receiving more attention than Izaya was from one of his beloved humans. He certainly wasn’t jealous of the girl, no. He was afraid she would be hurt by the brute and he would never get the chance to see if she was interesting or not.

Feeling inexplicably disgusted with himself, the informant watched the girl finish her conversation and vault fluidly over the second-story rail of the apartment and glide away on… a pair of roller-skates! Ah, so that’s why she was there, she was one of the messenger girls! Odd that he hadn’t seen her before. He’d have to follow her after teasing Shizu-chan.

The insipid man proceeded to do just that, and it was with a childish giggle that he skipped his way away from the beast’s lair. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t have left before provoking the blond into a truly towering rage, but today he had a girl to follow.

A few cut corners and leapt fences later, he caught sight of his quarry and dropped down beside her. She nodded at him politely, slowing down. Her sophisticated face showed Izaya about the same range of emotion as a child’s porcelain doll.

“Greetings, messenger-san! I am Orihara Izaya, and I’m afraid I have pressing facts to bring to your attention.” Bowing, he fixed his most honest smile on his face and threw in a hint of long-suffering regret for good measure.

“Oh.” Was all the reply he got, though she didn’t sound unfriendly. Or friendly, really. Ambivalent at best.

Well, no matter.

“Yes, very important advice Ms.….?”

“Ah, I am Shizukana Umi. Message Courier. Charmed to make your acquaintance.” She handed him a stylish gold and white business card, her hands grabbing it deftly from the front pocket of a high-quality leather bag. Izaya looked down at it before pocketing the card.

“What a lovely name, ne? Calm, quiet, with eyes like the ocean.” He said charmingly, leaning in ever so slightly, brushing her jawline with feather-light touches.

Women didn’t interest the brunette in the slightest, of course, but he didn’t think he’d found a single one able to resist his handsome looks and he made sure to use that advantage to its fullest.

Unfortunately, it appeared the day had come when his charm got him absolutely nowhere.

“Thank you.” Nothing in her face or tone had changed at all, and the dark-haired man frowned inwardly. He had never before met someone who managed to sound relaxed, formal, and so overwhelmingly polite all at once before.

Now that he thought about it, even if she was delivering a message, that didn’t mean she would’ve also simply happened to have what was clearly a man’s bathrobe with her. It was obvious that she was returning the article of clothing to Shizu-chan, and, of course, he should have thought of that sooner. Anyone could see that the beast was actually quite handsome, in fact, if he had been a regular human, Izaya had no doubt he would’ve been just his type. It was hardly surprising that this girl was probably enthralled by his strong physique and well-formed features. Swallowing a bitter taste in his mouth that once again _had nothing to do with jealousy, thank you,_ the informant spoke up once again.

“Ah yes, and it’s so unfortunate I have to tell you this. A nice girl like you should stop seeing someone like Heiwajima Shizuo. You clearly haven’t seen yet, but he has a dreadful temper, and if he were to lose his temper with you, well, you could end up in the hospital like his last girlfriend!” He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, as if he didn’t want to be telling her all of this but, of course, he had to for her own good.

Naturally, the part about the beast’s last girlfriend being hospitalized was a lie. First of all, he’d never actually had a girlfriend, and secondly, Shizuo had never hit a woman, no matter how mad he was.

If it got this _precious_ girl out of harm’s way, however, of course Izaya would lie. Generally speaking, Izaya didn’t even need a reason to lie, so this was actually what he considered to be a fairly selfless act. Once again, however, his words appeared to have no effect.

“I will keep that in mind, please have a nice day, Orihara-sama.” She bowed politely, and then rolled away, brushing off her jaw where he had touched her with a magnificently embroidered handkerchief.

Not one to give up, he soon finished grumbling at her reaction, and proceeded to follow the girl at a discreet distance until she entered a huge building the he knew to be a modeling agency. A very prominent one. He waited for about half an hour, but when it became apparent that she was not going to re-appear, he gave up and turned to leave, immediately bumping into someone and knocking them to the ground.     

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I'll link you guys to my deviantart soon so you can see the girls, and the next chapter is on its way. A big thanks to anyone who left kudos on my work :3


	4. Tattoo???

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took such a long while, but this chapter was eventful I hope! I also hope you guys like my writing :/  
> ....... eh.

Whoever it was fell to the ground with a gasp and immediately somersaulted back up, despite the fact that they were wearing red-wheeled roller-skates. Izaya sighed, it was Hana, the most annoying of the three. She was just so… happy. It was disgusting, and he’d tried to dampen her spirits every time they crossed paths to no avail.

“Why, hello there Hana-chan, I didn’t see you. You weren’t following me, by any chance? Were you? How rude~!” He fixed his oily smirk back on his face, watching the girl brush herself off smugly.

“Hey Iza-chan! I was, sorry, sorry… I just saw you following Umi-chan and decided to follow you!” She laughed, producing a tray of sushi from her bag like some sort of magician.

“Hey, hey, Iza-chan, wanna share? I don’t like the otoro as much.” Without waiting for him to answer, she had started sorting the fish onto two plates, also from her bag.

After a few seconds more of her dividing the food, she handed the plate to Izaya, who took it, shrugging internally. Who was he to pass up some free fatty tuna? The odd pair ate while they walked. For once, Izaya was only contributing about thirty percent of the conversation.

“Mm! Simon was nice enough to give this to me on a discount! And it looks like it’ll rain later today, that’ll be so nice, don’t you think? Oh, oh! I almost forgot to ask, why are you following Umi-chan, Iza-chan??” She hop-skipped, prattled on, and shoved pieces of the food into her mouth with abandon, and Izaya found himself wondering if he would be able to get around faster in roller-skates.

“Why assume I was following her, ne? It would be unseemly.” He commented casually, spearing another slice of otoro on the end of one of his many knives.

“Ah, of course, silly, silly! Still though, you could just ask about Umi-chan, you wouldn’t have seen her ‘cause she delivers all the messages for those rich types! People think it’s really fashionable nowadays to have people deliver little notes, classy, ya know?” She talked without stopping for breath. Izaya nodded slightly, amused against his will.

“Well, then, Hana-chan, why are you and your friends here in Japan? Or, ne, should I say, Rosey Laude?” He had her now!

“Hana”, or Rosey, turned to Izaya looking… delighted?

“Oooh! Yes, that was the name I used in… Ah, Belgium! Right! And, you know, this ‘n that!” She was smiling again, but this time with just the hint of a smirk, and she packed the plates away carefully.

“Mmm, yes! Anyway, I have a job to get to, don’t let Bibi catch you following her, she’ll singe your coat good this time!” And she left, leaving Izaya with the distinct need to find more information.

With that thought in mind, the informant headed back to his apartment in Shinjuku, waltzing in the door and discarding his coat onto the back of his black swivel chair as he slumped into it. Immediately, he logged into the Dollars chat forum.

 

_Kanra has joined the chat._

_Taro: A real one? Who’d have the guts to do that?!_

_Setton: Hey Kanra_

_Taro: Hey_

_Bakyura: Hey there!_

_Kanra: ~Hello~!! A real what??_

_Bakyura: You haven’t heard??!_

_Kanra: …._

_Setton: Bakyura was just telling us that someone gave Heiwajima Shizuo a love confession._

 

Izaya’s face twisted into a frown as he set his fingers back onto the keyboard to reply.

 

_Kanra: Ah, that can’t be true! He wouldn’ve thrown them across the city!!!!_

_Taro: Apparantly it was one of those messenger girls, and he does seem to hang around with her a lot, actually._

_Setton: Wait, really??_

_Kanra: …_

 

Izaya’s frown deepened, well, at least now the conversation would be easier to steer towards the girls.

 

_Bakyura: Yeah, yeah, they’re always around each other, I saw them at Russia Sushi earlier today!_

_Kanra: That’s pretty odd, who are those girls anyway? Do we know anything about them??_

_Taro: Only that they’ve been here for a few months, and well, they deliver messages of course..._

_Bakyura: I talked to one the other day~! The totally hot angry one with the red in her hair. She said they were called “The Butterfly Girls”._

_Taro: That’s a funny name._

_Kanra: Did you know there are actually three of them?_

_Bakyura: Wha??? No way, I’ve never seen a third girl._

_Taro: Me neither, really??_

_Kanra: Yeah, yeah, apparently she only runs messages for really fancy people, like actors and models and people like that._

_Taro: Well, that makes sense, I wonder where they came from. Do you know anything Setton?_

_Setton: Yeah, I know those girls actually, they… Well, they’re trouble._

_Setton: …_

_Setton: I have to go, I’ll be back later tonight, bye!_

_Setton has left the chat._

_Kanra: Me too, actually, bye~!_

_Kanra has left the chat._

          Leaning away from his desk, Izaya crossed his arms behind his head, turning the new information over in his head. So Shizu-chan and “Umi-chan” really were dating, how sickening. Also,  who had ever heard of such a stupid name, “The Butterfly Girls”? How idiotic. He should drop a bus or something on "Umi-chan" and see how that spastic Hana and her angry friend reacted.

          Izaya giggled, yes, maybe he would do just that. It would be amusing.

          After a solid ten minutes of imagining crushed teenage girls, the brunette re-focused his attention on the chat. So, Celty knew these girls, did she? That was quite curious. It looked like it was time to pay her a visit! He grabbed his coat and was out the door at whirlwind speed, scratching at his neck as he did so; for some reason it was itching abominably…

 

*     *     *

 

As a rule, Shinra was happy to take any patient that found their way to him; the underground doctor wasn’t picky and if they would pay, he saw no reason turn them away. Sometimes, however, he did find himself faced with a genuine hypochondriac. That hypochondriac, however, had never been Shizuo, and Shinra couldn’t help but rub at the bridge of his nose in frustration, hoping fervently that his volatile friend didn’t destroy the apartment he shared with his lovely Celty.

“Look, of course this must be upsetting, I’d be upset too! But I can’t really do anything about it, tattoos aren’t a life-threatening medical condition, or, or, even any kind of medical condition! You should get it laser-ed off if you don’t want it anymore, but I really can’t help you.” He was sitting across from the blond, who was growling and rubbing his neck.

“I don’t remember how it got there Shinra! What if it’s, I dunno, poisonous or something? I’ll bet this is that louses’ fault somehow!” He said vehemently, slamming his fist down on the coffee table which groaned pitifully in protest.

Flinching, Shinra held up his hands in a pacifying gesture.

“I’m sure it’s not poisonous, if it was you’d already be dead, you noticed it over a week ago, after all. And last I checked, even Izaya couldn’t make tattoos spontaneously appear on people.” Shinra shuddered at the thought.

Shizuo still looked highly unconvinced, and as a last ditch-effort to save one of his favorite coffee tables to date, Shinra held his hands up and began to talk about laser-removal specialists he knew of, but was interrupted by Celty’s fortuitous arrival home.

The dullahan walked through the door and cocked her head in confusion, tapping out a greeting on her PDA.

[Hello Shinra, hello Shizuo, why are you here? Is something wrong?] She held the message out, walking over and setting her helmet on the coffee table.

Shizuo opened his mouth, but Shinra beat him to the punch, getting up to hug his girlfriend as he did so.

“Ah, my beloved Celty, always so kind and compassionate! Shizuo is just worried about a tattoo he found on the back of his neck, nothing serious at all!” He wrapped his arm around her black-suited form and received an amused hug in return.

[Tattoo??] Celty displayed the message to Shizuo, freeing her arms from Shinra’s embrace with some difficulty.

“Eh, yeah, it’s on the back of my neck so I didn’t notice it until Tom-san pointed it out last week.” He stood, his mood switching from angry to abashed like a traffic light.

[I see, that is really strange, Shizuo… Can I see it?] Shizuo nodded in acquiescence, bowing his head so she could look as she stepped closer, extricating herself from the arms of her infatuated doctor.

Staring at the back of the tall blonde’s neck, both Shinra and Celty could see the tattoo, or, more accurately, two tattoos. A pair of small, ornate orbs, one on top of the other sat innocently on the debt-collector’s neck. The bottommost circle was emerald green, the character “hope” in the center, surrounded by Celtic knot-work. The second one sat just above the first, sky blue in color, and read “serenity”. It was surrounded by detailed ocean waves. Shinra, who had turned his face back to the source of his ever present obsession as soon as he could, noticed the color drain from the few bits of Celty’s skin that were visible. Shizuo, however, didn’t notice a thing and shifted uncomfortably. He turned, rubbing the back of his neck, seeming even more uncomfortable.

“Well, yeah, s’probably nothing… Eh, I suppose I can just wear a scarf for now or something. Or find that flea and beat the crap out of him until he tells me how it got there. Yeah. Think I’ll do that!” He said decisively.

With that, the man in the bartender suit strode out of the apartment, growling under his breath.

As soon as he had left, Celty turned to Shinra, tapping away on her PDA frantically.

[This is bad; Shinra! Really bad!] Her smoke puffed out in an agitated sort of way. Shinra was beginning to feel nervous.

“Er, but, why? What’s wrong with those tattoos? Are they…. Special?” Celty was practically hopping from one foot to the other.

[Yes! They’re magic, and Shizuo… Shizuo is dangerous enough by himself without throwing in unpredictable love magic! Those aren’t tattoos, Shinra, that’s a cupid’s mark!]   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OoooooOOOOooo Mystery tattoos! :P What's next?! I'll try to write more quickly...
> 
> Also, here's a quick doodle I did of Hana annoying Izaya, poor guy :P 
> 
> http://kitfaux.deviantart.com/art/Izaya-and-Hana-542140190


	5. Fire!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confusion, fire, more appearing tattoos. Oh, and a fight!

 

          _The next time Izaya saw Shizuo, the former bartender was wearing a black winter scarf. Since it was June, the brunette found this a little extraordinary, but that day he elected not to rile up his nemesis. This was mostly because of the palpable aura of fury already coming off of the blonde in waves, and the informant turned to leave in boredom. A loud giggle interrupted him, and he swiveled on his heal with alarming speed, dodging behind a nearby mailbox to observe its source._

_Shizu-chan was exiting what was probably his latest “client’s” home and, as Tom and Varona trailed after him, the former glancing worriedly at the small spatter of blood on the collar of the bartender suit. They were being hailed enthusiastically by Hana-chan, who proceeded to pull four-alright, what? How did she have those in her bag?-ice-cream cones from her bag and hand them out. Then she proceeded to hang all over his precious Shizu-chan. As per the status quo she was prattling incessantly and, horribly, the tall man actually seemed amused, which was amazing when you considered his usually quick temper. She zoomed in circles around him, then, smiling a sunny smile that turned into a smirk, directed unsettlingly close to where Izaya was hiding, she leaned in and pecked the blond on the cheek._

_Shizou’s cheeks turned an admirable shade of tomato-red. Izaya just saw red. Varona looked vaguely jealous._

_In a flash, Izaya was up and making his way toward what he could only assume was a happy couple, when, out of nowhere, something struck his leg and down he went. This left him sprawled directly on Shizu-chan’s lap._

_Wait, what?_

_“I’m so sorry Shizuo! So sorry!!” The redhead certainly looked sorry, and she was sprawled on the ground as well. It was amazing how someone as agile as Hana-chan managed to fall down so damned often._

_Behind the informant, a chuckled sounded softly, and he whipped his head around to find a very smug Shinzobi, twirling her scarlet streak and puffing her electric cigarette. It was all a stupid set up! It took Izaya almost fifteen seconds to remember that he was still seated on a shocked Shizuo’s lap._

 Izaya was supremely unimpressed with Erika’s theory.

“And then you admit your undying love, Iza-chan, and you both go back to your home and-“He cut her off.

“Oh, Erika, how could you say something so disgusting? Me, in love with a monster? Tch.” Now, it was true that Shizuo had taken to wearing a large woolen scarf, and that it was annoying to see how friendly Hana and Shizuo were, and that they had happened to wind up in an eerily similar compromising situation a few days ago. It was certainly _not_ true that he had declared undying love for his nemesis and then gone back to that monster’s house and…

His face twisted up in the greatest display of disgusted amusement he could muster. Definitely not.

A sharp cough behind him caused Erika to stare and start babbling about “the meaning of red hair on a character” with Walker. It was Shinzobi in the flesh, glaring at Izaya with her e-cig pressed to her bright red lips and her other hand on her hip.

“Got a message for you, insect.” He simply glared at her as she said it.

As he mulled over her words, though, something in Izaya snapped. Insect?! Who was she to call him that? Only one person got away with that particular insult.

A second later he lunged at her with his knife, whipping it out of its hiding place with nigh inhuman speed. His blade found only air. In front of him Shinzobi was crouched, a twisted smirk on her face as she stowed her e-cig back in her pocket.

“Let’s make it a fucking fight then!” She said, and charged at Izaya, twirling like a red blur in her pink-wheeled skates. Her lighter was out, and she flicked it open, a stream of molten fire pouring out like a vicious snake.

Izaya merely grinned like a madman, dancing back with a high-pitched giggle. Why hadn’t he done this sooner? This would be so much fun! The adrenaline from a fight was always so exhilarating.

“A fight, oh dear! I thought we would play a little game! First blood, eh, messenger??!” He laughed and dodged a whiplash of fire, behind them Erika was babbling excitedly and Walker oohed and awed. Fire was kind of his thing, after all.

The two began to dance around each other like real combatants, Izaya dodging tongues of flame the other seemed to control like living things, streaming from the lighter in her fist. She danced out of the way of his knives, never stopping her perpetual motion. Izaya grinned twistedly, she was still wearing her skates, and therefore he had the agility advantage. He pressed in, whipping his knife to shred the air in front of him faster and faster. Darting, turning, twisting, she never even singed him, and yet, he couldn’t land a strike either. He redoubled his efforts, and a look of boredom crossed her face, right before she surged forward and her hand shot out, wrapping itself around the back of his neck. He panicked a little. He brought his knife up in a somewhat frantic arc, and though she tried to dance away again, it caught her on the swell of her right cheek and a thin cut appeared. A bit of crimson trickled out.

She backflipped away, not even acknowledging the slice in her skin. A second later she had pulled out her e-cig and was puffing it again.

Izaya took the moment to gloat and also stepped back, lowering his knife. She’d been faster than he’d expected, but he had her measure now. She wasn’t any sort of threat to him. He’d ask Celty about the fire later.

The drop of blood reached her chin, and she then pulled a tightly folded note out of her coat pocket.

“You want your message now, mental patient?” Izaya arched his brows and looked disinterested. He shrugged.

“It’s from Shiki-sama. Even you wouldn’t ignore a message from a client, Orihara.” She said acidly, holding it out impatiently.

Izaya narrowed his eyes.

“Now, why would such an… important person use you to send messages?” He asked casually.

“Because if I have a message to deliver, no-one else will see it.” She said, a cloud of vapor accompanying the words.

“Here” She threw the message at him deftly, and it spun through the air like a shuriken until he snatched it from flight.

“It’d be real… rude of you to ignore his reply, anyway. You sent the first message by way of Hana.” She said flatly.

Now, that was odd. If there was anything Izaya knew, it was that he, by and large, had control of his actions, and not one of his actions had been to tell Hana to _write to Shiki for him._

“I suppose it would be rather rude, wouldn’t it?” He said breezily, his thoughts analyzing the situation speedily under his cool exterior.

This meant someone was going around, using his name for something! And wasn’t that interesting? So many interesting possibilities, yes. He began to open the tightly folded note.

He blanched at the contents, and he could see Shinzobi watching him casually from where she was leaned up against a concrete wall.

Orihara,

Heiwajima is not of any kind of concern to the

Awakusu-kai at this time.

Neither is who you choose to sleep with,

We are not your bodyguards for hire.

Please deal with your concerns for his safety yourself.

~Shiki

 

Whoever was using his name was, officially, a deadman. Not only was someone using his name to spread embarrassing lies, they had also potentially damaged his relationship with Shiki. That could make his life very hard. He snapped at Shinzobi and managed to send a correctional reply without sounding upset, and then he headed home.

Unusually, he paid no attention to the mass of humanity around him, he flitted his way home in high dungeon. He only paused once in front of his hallway mirror before going straight to his computers, rubbing his neck.

If he was slightly unsettled that the green circle, “hope”, now had a fellow ring below it reading “passion”, bordered with red flames on his neck… Well, he’d have to figure out that particular nuisance later. For now there was a plentiful supply of cover-up in his bathroom obtained by Namie and an identity thief to find.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's some more intrigue. Yes indeedy-do. Shiki, I'd be fed up with Izaya too.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Wow, okay, end of the first chapter, please feel welcome to let me know what you thought in the comments!


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